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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29039421">Black Bile Rasphody</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>OMORI (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Based on a fanart, Depression, Hallucinations, Minor Spoilers, Panic Attacks, Pre-game but Post-Mari death, What do people put in tags, Wish this was longer but i'll take whatever i can make i guess, feel like i could benefit from using more words.. being more verbose and all, i'll link it, minor emetophobia tw, oh and</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:42:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29039421</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunny felt feverish. He frenetically pushed the covers off of his chest; it was suffocatingly hot in here, wasn’t it?</p><p>-- </p><p>Sunny wakes up in the middle of the night.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Black Bile Rasphody</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunny’s blood seethed through his veins. He didn’t remember waking up. He almost never remembered waking up anymore. He felt feverish. He frenetically pushed the covers off of his chest; <em> it was suffocatingly hot in here, wasn’t it?</em></p><p>He inelegantly stumbled out of bed. Sunny felt as if the whole of his room was aflame, charring his feet where he fled, ripping the air from his lungs. He caught bright flashes of red in his peripherals. The heat was unbearable, lapping at his elbows and the nape of his neck, tainting the back of his throat with smoke, reaching for his hair-</p><p> </p><p>He slammed the door shut behind him, panting. Sinking to the hall floor, wiping his sweat-drenched face with his hands, he coughed as he steadied his breath. He felt disgusting. </p><p>He staggered to his feet, and unsteadily scuffed his way to the bathroom. <em> It’s just to wash my face, </em>he assured himself. Then he could go back to sleep. </p><p>Trudging into the tiled room, Sunny felt his veins chill. The yawning walls may well have been made of ice, and the way back out an eternity away. He shied his gaze away from the mirror as he approached the sink. He hauled against a faucet handle. The spout wailed as he turned it on. The sound was deafening, but he didn’t pay it his mind. He vigorously spattered his face with the water, cleaning away sweat and sorrow and haze from his eyes. He looked up, and the frigid walls had receded and regained their form. Sunny sighed and absentmindedly glanced to the mirror before him. His heart raced.</p><p>The figure that stared back at him was alien to his gaze. The figure’s eyes nearly glowed with malice. Tangled, shoulder-length hair framed its face. The shape seemed mocking. Maddening. He was still seeing things.</p><p>Savagely, the figure produced a pair of scissors and began to hack away at the knots in its hair. Ragged chunks were strewn away as it did its work. It proceeded almost hysterically. Sunny didn’t understand. Why did he care? Why was he crying? The figure thrashed its shoulders about wildly, ridding itself of any excess strands, frenzied in its insistence...</p><p>Before Sunny lost his grip on the scissors, and they clattered to the floor, the jolt of noise snapping him back to reality. He collapsed backward, falling among the locks he had just severed from himself.</p><p>No. <em> That wasn't him. </em> He clutched his head in his hands. Sunny coughed, bile rising in his throat. <em> THAT WASN’T HIM. </em> The black shapes that threatened to drag him down the shower drain; the reason he never bathed. The dark tendrils that choked him whenever he ate; the reason nothing would ever stay down. <em> All around him, the remains of a shadow in the mirror, having just taken its leave. </em> <b>That wasn’t him. </b>Sunny's head spun. He fought for a breath that never quite caught.</p><p>Sunny scrambled out of the bathroom, limbs trembling with every movement. He didn’t look back. He locked his bedroom door behind him and pulled himself back under the covers of his bed. The hellish heat returned, though still, Sunny closed his eyes. He was so, so tired.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was very much inspired by this art, please check it out! https://twitter.com/finalrecital/status/1354685383124996096</p><p>Sorry that this kinda has no pace and is too thinly worded for its own good... Especially there near the end. I'm not good at text formatting either, so apologies if it's an eyesore to read. Title is from a song.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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